Camouflaging Your Philadelphia Fandom
And Disappointing Everyone You Meet
It all began in South Jersey. As I sat on the end of the bed, mere inches from the television, playing my video games, I heard something from the other room calling out.
It wasn’t the Philadelphia Eagles that captivated me back in 2004, no. It was Harry Kalas.
For those of you unfamiliar, Kalas worked the Philadephia Phillies television broadcast for 38 years until his death in 2009. In my opinion, an on-air talent only rivaled by the Los Angeles Dodger’s Vin Scully.
Just listen to him:
Kalas sucked me in with not only his charm but an ability to tell stories throughout the U.S.’s longest sports telecast. So that’s where the story begins: overhearing my dad watching baseball from the other room after about six hours of staring at a Star Wars RPG.
I was now a Phillies fan.
Ultimately, a kid from Virginia picked a strange team to align his fandom, but you have to remember the time. The Washington Nationals were just a twinkle in the Montreal Expos' eyes when I was raising hell all over NoVa.
Still, being a Philadelphia fan in the middle school hallways of Northern Virginia can be rough. It's easy enough to get messed with when you're a fourteen-year-old sporting a back brace. Best not to feed the lions.
So I learned to blend in. Quietly and smugly, I rooted for my teams—a silent supporter of all things Philadelphia. I got good at it too, and now you see the man that writes before you.
Let’s be clear, I’m proud to be a Philadelphia fan, and I don’t hide it. It’s just certain people, fairly or unfairly, have a preconceived notion of your typical Eagles fan.
We lost to New Orleans, by the way.
So before I announce it to the world, I like to take the room’s temperature, especially (when) I was in an office full of Long Islanders or down in college in Athens, Georgia.
I can tell you just about everything you’d like to know about the Braves and Falcons (they used to have a hockey team too) because if you ask people about their teams, I promise you, they will tell you.
I’ve learned about the Yankees and Mets. I’ve learned about the Giants and Jets. No one suspects me at first, but they always ask, right before they say, ‘hey, where’s your mask?’
Once they discover my truth, the conversation typically goes as so:
‘You’re a Phillies fan? Where ya from, Philly?’
‘No,’ you reply. ‘I’m from Virginia.’
‘Wait,’ your coworker says in disbelief, ‘This does NOT add up!’
You sigh. ‘Yeah, my dad’s from Philadelphia so that’s just kinda what happened.’
‘Weird,’ your coworker says as he turns back to his triple monitor hub (that he special requested).
Truth be told, it’s less about hiding my fandom and more about avoiding this conversation. A conversation I can recite due to its lack of originality. Piss or get off the pot.
So this should be a learning experience for all you homers. There‘s more like me amongst you.
Your neighbor in Dallas might be a Pittsburgh Steelers fan and, if he’s smart, you’ll never know. I want you all to live with that fear.
South Jersey is where it all started, and I was learning back then—just listening to Harry Kalas, a man who passionately cared for a team and proceeded into the world in anonymity.
Maybe you knew his voice from NFL Films or Westwood One. Ultimately, he was never yours. He was Philadelphia’s, and there’s a good chance you didn’t know it.
Weekly Question: what’s your favorite video game of all time and why?
Tommy Orme: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic II — Unreal replayability. Game still holds up fifteen years later EVEN IF they never truly finished it.
Tommy Orme is a former contributing writer to 247Sports, Fanduel, and more living in New York City working in National Media Investment.
For any professional inquires, please email at tg.orme@gmail.com or DM @t_orm3 on Twitter.
